“How so?”
“You say ‘guess’ in that funny way. And that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Your riding so recklessly.”
“My goodness!” exclaimed the other, with a short laugh. “I thought the whole West was noted for reckless riding.”
“Oh, no. It only looks reckless,” she returned, quietly. “Our boys wouldn’t ride a pony close to the edge of a steep descent like that up yonder.”
“All right. I’m in the wrong,” admitted the stranger. “But you needn’t rub it in.”
“I didn’t mean to,” said Helen, quickly. “I have a bad habit of talking out loud.”
He laughed at that. “You’re frank, you mean? I like that. Be frank enough to tell me how I am to get back to Badger’s—even on ponyback—to-night?”
“Impossible,” declared Helen.